


A Man Not Yet Weaned

by emmaliza



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Breast Fucking, Comeplay, Dirty Talk, F/M, Forget gods old new red etc., I worship at the church of Catelyn's Boobs, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, very light bdsm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 19:41:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10543239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza
Summary: “Lord Dustin was right, you know.”Or, Ned Stark gets what he wants. Not that he's brilliant at asking for it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the valar_morekinks prompt: "Ned/Cat - titty fuck. +for light bdsm."

“Lord Dustin was right, you know.”  
  
The words slip from Ned's lips thoughtlessly, quiet enough he's only saying them to himself really, but Cat's eyes still look up when she hears them, sharp as ever despite her state of exhaustion.  
  
“What was that, my lord?”  
  
A flush rises to his cheeks, and for a moment Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North, feels no more than a boy of seventeen years again. “Nothing,” he mutters.  
  
“Ned, you know I know your voice. It wasn't nothing. Out with it.”  
  
Indeed, he knows she knows his voice – he knows she _loves_ his voice, and he's used it well tonight. “I just said...” the blush on his cheeks stubbornly refuses to fade, and the heat he feels in her chambers with her sweat-soaked body curled into his side doesn't help, but he can't bring himself to push her away. “...Lord Dustin. When we wed. He, um... might have been right.”  
  
It takes Cat a moment to place the memory, but when she does, she raises an eyebrow, a smirk spreading across her visage. “Might have been?” she asks, pushing herself up, her teats bouncing as she goes. “You are not sure then, if my teats are enough to make you wish you'd never been weaned?”  
  
Ned is breathless for a moment, struck dumb by the sight of her bosom and the red and purple blotches he left across it an hour ago, when he grabbed and squeezed them as he fucked her hard from behind. Another flush rises to his face, this time from shame. He knows that Cat enjoys it when he is a little rough with her, when there is something of the wolf in him, but he can't help but worry he will go too far, that he will hurt her. Even though she always seems to end up begging him to go further.  
  
She smiles at his speechlessness, subtly hunching her shoulders, pushing her breasts closer together and closer to him. “Tell me, dear Ned – is there something you want with my tits that you have not yet had?” A pause. “I thought you'd had me every which way there was. I certainly ache like you have.”  
  
Ned can feel himself hardening beneath the sheets and really, this is the third time tonight, it's _ridiculous_. “Aye,” he whispers.  
  
Cat grins and relaxes, placing her palms upon the matress and leaning back. “Really now?” she asks, her legs spreading slightly. She is teasing him, challenging him. He will not back down.  
  
He _growls_ as he pounces upon her, and she gasps as he pins her to the bed, one hand encircling her wrist as the other goes to feel between her nethers, already soaked with her juices and his seed. “Really,” he grunts as he grinds against her thigh, fully hard again in a matter of seconds. He leans down and takes one of those teats into his mouth, biting at the nipple, earning a sharp mewl as she squirms beneath him. He raises the hand wet from their fluids and grabs the other breast, hard. “You have no idea what I want to do with those teats of yours.”  
  
She moans, grabbing his hair with her spare hand. “I could guess,” she says. “Let me see. Hmm. You want to squeeze them until they bruise while you fuck me like a bitch in heat. Wait, no, you already did that. Alright. You want to tear the bodices from all my gowns, so my poor breasts are left cold and shivering all day, just so you can grab and fondle them whenever you like. You want to attach two pegs to my nipples, and tie two ropes to those pegs, and tie those ropes to the bedposts, so I am unsure whether to scream in agony or desire.” A pause. “You'd never ask me too, of course, but I bet secretly you want to squash my teats up against the stained glass in my sept, fuck me in the light of the Seven-Pointed Star.”  
  
Ned curses under his breath. He would never have thought of any of those things on his own, but now she says it he does, he wants to do all of it. He has no idea where his lady wife, ever so proper and composed, ever learned to speak of such things (part of him wonders whether Brandon might have taught her, but that is a thought he tries hard to bury). She shudders as he takes his cock in hand and slides it along the length of her slit, rubbing back and forth, teasing her. “Not quite,” he says. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Oh?” she asks, almost innocent, but there's nothing innocent about the way she moans as he pushes himself gently forward, almost sliding inside her, but not quite breaching that gap. “What then?”  
  
He pulls back. She can't smother the disappointed whine she lets out, and then it's his turn to smirk, although he highly doubts the expression suits him at all. He crawls upwards, until he kneels above her chest, and Cat looks up at him, bemused. Then he grabs one breast in each hand – gods, they're so big they hardly even fit in his hands, and his hands aren't small – and thrusts his cock between them, pushing the flesh to close around him. “This,” he explains. “I want to fuck your perfect tits, my lady.”  
  
Cat still seems bemused for a moment, but then her eyes roll back in her head as he starts to push himself back and forth, gasping at the sweat-slicked friction between her teats. “Oh, is that all?” she laughs, breathless. “It's a little late to start worrying about getting me with child, love.”  
  
Ned frowns, and unthinking, he reaches up and yanks her hair gently. Cat gasps, eyes popping open, and Ned feels another twinge of guilt. She quite likes having her hair pulled, but he loves her hair, so he doesn't want to damage it. Thin red strands come away in his hand. He realises he's punished himself more than her though, the heat and tightness around his prick gone, and he groans before he reaches back down to squeeze her teats back together.  
  
“Mm, there you go,” she murmurs as regains his rhythm, her hips subtly echoing his own in movement down below. “I love the feel of your cock against me, Ned. I love the feel of your seed on my skin. Really, it's a surprise we didn't do this earlier.”  
  
He grunts as he quickens his pace, thrusts growing reckless and erratic. She's always been the talker of the two of them. She's right though, they could have done this sooner, if she's taking to it so well. He doesn't know why he's surprised. “I know what else you love,” he murmurs, and she raises an eyebrow once more. _Whatever do you mean?_ her eyes seem to say. Ned groans and pushes his cock as far as it will go. Her teats are so huge he can barely see the head of his cock, but he hopes it will be enough.  
  
His hand goes back to her hair – it's so _soft_ – not to pull, but to guide. “You don't just love the feel of my seed,” he says. “You love the taste of it as well.”  
  
A shudder runs through Cat's whole body. He knows she's always loved being able to swallow his come, although she rarely allows herself it, for she is no devoted to giving him sons. Like this, however, she's hardly going to refuse. There is too little room and the angle is too awkward for her to take it into her mouth, but she can crane her neck forward to swirl her delicate, precise tongue over him, lapping up what drips from the slit in his cock like a promise of what's to come, and Ned moans and curses and starts to thrust again, hitting his prick against her perfect red lips, and he tries not to hope he'll bruise them.  
  
“Gods, Cat,” he says as he thrusts wild and reckless between her gorgeous white teats, already marked and bruised, but that only makes them more beautiful, that makes them look like they are his, and there is as much guilt as lust in that thought but his wife doesn't seem to want to let him feel the guilt, not when she strains her neck so she can put her lips around the head of his cock and suck, and Ned groans, torn between squeezing her tits ever tighter, harder, better around him, and grabbing her hair and pushing her down to swallow him whole. “You're – you're so beautiful – fuck, I'm–” he can feel his balls tightening, and she probably can too. “Cat, I'm going to–”  
  
She groans, lips leaving his prick with a pop, and she licks them with a grin. Suddenly he feels her hands grab the cheeks of his arse, and squeeze hard. “Spend for me then, love,” she says. “Go on. Have your way with me. Come all over my perfect tits.”

And Ned _does_ , and he can't say he's subtle about it either, howling like a wolf as his seed leaves him in one great rush. He can only pray the children won't hear. Cat moans, her hands leaving his arse to close around his own instead, squeezing her breasts even tighter around him, wringing out the last drops. He makes a mess of her bosom, and of her neck, and of her chin. Some even splashes across her lips, which she licks away eagerly, making Ned groan at the sight.  
  
As he looks down at his wife so utterly filthy, despite her smile, Ned can't help but feel another twinge of guilt. “Cat–”  
  
“Ned, if you dare apologise to me now, I will have to slap you.”  
  
That gives him pause. He sighs. “Alright,” he says. “But thank you.” He flushes again. The wolf is gone now, and he is back to being Ned Stark.  
  
“Oh, don't mention it,” Cat says, awfully casual for a woman covered in come. “I can hardly say it bothered me.”  
  
“That's true.” On a whim, Ned finds himself swirling a finger through the trails of come across her chest, before dropping down to circle it around her nipple. She groans and arches up towards him, and Ned knows he will have to repay his lady wife for the pleasure she's given him, and soon. But not quite yet.  
  
He swipes his finger back through his seed, and holds it up to her mouth. Cat doesn't hesitate at all before she smiles and wraps her lips around it to suck it off.  
  
 _Perhaps the wolf in me is not all gone._ “You're smirking like the cat who got the cream,” he murmurs.  
  
She pauses, and then pulls off to raise an eyebrow at him. “Really Ned?”  
  
“I – I didn't mean it as a jape, it's just an expression.”  
  
That makes her laugh. “If you say so, love. Still, I suppose it doesn't taste much like cream anyway.”  
  
“What, does that disappoint you?”  
  
“You're the one who wishes he'd never been weaned.”  
  
He laughs at that, leaning down to kiss her, and for a moment he just rests his brow against hers (he has his own come on his chin, and he cannot bring himself to mind). “Can you blame me?” he asks. “Any man would want to suckle at those.”  
  
“Hmm, maybe. But suckling's nothing. Only one man gets to do anything else.”


End file.
